Bird Has Flown
by Alone in the Desert
Summary: A dislocated Kel ponders birds, horses and other animals. Oneshot, implied femmeslash, TQ spoilers


Bird Has Flown 

_Disclaimer: All characters and locations herein are the property of Tamora Pierce. Plot and actual written words owned by me. In addition, the title of the story is taken from the song Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) by John Lennon and Paul McCartney._

_A/N: Written for Ali's birthday._

Kel likes animals. She always has. She gets especially attached to the animals in her life, which is why she's glad that at least Jump could be here with her, even if the mate said very firmly that there's no way he's letting Hoshi on the ship, much less Peachblossom. Their hosts provided every one of their party with a horse, of course, and Kel has a nasty feeling that she's going to miss her honey-colored mare when she leaves. Which is not so far away, really, for all that four months seemed like too long to be away, when she had first received this assignment.

Kel likes birds, and she misses her sparrows sorely. Sparrows are her favorite birds. They're so affectionate and sensible, so loyal. They never could have survived the sail to the Isles, so she'd left them in Corus, where Lalasa and Tian had promised to take care of them. Lalasa was like a sparrow sometimes, lively and skittish, and sensible with her shop. Affectionate with Tian, and of course completely loyal to her. Lalasa never strays, and Kel knows there is no one better to trust with her birds.

There are a lot of people in Tortall that Kel misses, other than her animals. She misses her parents and Anders. She misses Neal and Yuki, Shinko and Roald, and Owen, and Lord Wyldon, and her other friends. Although being around so many happily married people gets lonely, sometimes. Still, she could hardly resent them their happiness, could she? It's so difficult to find someone, she knows, and yet everyone she knows is so lucky. Except her, but that's all right. Finding love is difficult. So many things get in the way, even when it seems just right. Duties get in the way.

Kel enjoys her work. Even though she dreamed of being a field knight all throughout her training, she supposes that diplomacy is in her blood, what with her father and all. Actually, she likes it. So much has changed in the Isles, and the Rittevon kings had had such a bad history with Tortall, that everyone at court knows how vital it is to get a good start with the new queen.

No one knows quite what to expect of the new queen, when she's so young. King Jonathan had told her in person, before she left, to keep a close watch on the queen's advisors. He was inclined to believe that they have more control over what happens in the country than their young mistress. Kel was similarly inclined, but now she thinks quite differently. Outwardly, such a frail-seeming girl, so young and so small that everyone thinks they can overlook her. But in the long days and weeks Kel has watched the new queen, and she knows there is a power to her, for all she is not yet sixteen.

Kel doesn't like doves. They're just not her favorite kind of bird. It's difficult for her to put her finger on exactly why. They are quiet and gentle birds, but her lack of good reasons doesn't affect the thought. Sparrows are friendlier, anyway, in her opinion.

The queen is not held in the thrall of her advisors. If anything, they are in awe of her. Kel studies the prophecy that ignited this revolution and wonders if it's real. Having been hand-picked by a god for queenship would certainly explain why everyone in the palace, from the prime minister to the head of her personal guard, looks to the queen as a shining beacon and example. She _is_ a good queen, Kel has to admit. She plays chess with anyone willing to risk the humiliation of losing to a teenager. She treats both races fairly, though her reign is marked by laws and laws to improve conditions for the local population, often at a high cost from the taxes paid mostly by the descendents of the Isles' conquerors.

The Rajmuat court is full; the palace employs many of the city's denizens. Compassionate she might be, but no fool. She is heavily guarded at all times, and maintains an intricate network of spies and informants. Dissident nobles have been unarmed when they thought only the most trustworthy knew of their plans of coup. The web of information is seemingly flawless, and word of it has infiltrated every home in the Isles. The identity of the one responsible is an open secret. Bold enough to appear at the negotiation tables of diplomatic envoys. Confident enough to appear late.

Kel doesn't like crows, and she has plenty of reasons. Crows are loud and raucous birds, large enough to bully the smaller birds and clever enough to steal anything they want. On the first week a palace crow stole a brooch from Kel's room. It was a favorite of hers since her mother had given it to her, last Midwinter.

Kel packs her clothing and personal items. She's glad to leave, interesting as the expedition was. She misses glaive practices with her mother, and Neal's witty nonsense. She misses Peachblossom, and hopes that he hasn't gotten too ornery while she was gone. She misses her sparrows. At least she needn't worry about them. They have been with her since she was a child, and will always remain, she's sure. As often as they fly away, they know how to come back to her.

Yes, Kel is glad to leave the Isles.


End file.
